


Taking Care of Business

by blueraspberryrodimus (rosecolouredspectrespecs)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Lemon, NSFW, NSFW text, Optimus Prime - Freeform, Reader Insert, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, TF, TFP - Freeform, Transformers - Freeform, Transformers Prime - Freeform, Tumblr request, Valve Oral (Transformers), i really wrote this for me tbch lmao thanks tumblr requester for the motivation, optimus - Freeform, reader just doms the hell out of a soft sub optimus, someone requested it on tumblr and it got very self indulgent, strap on, tf request, valve eating, valveplug, x Reader, x human, x human reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 09:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecolouredspectrespecs/pseuds/blueraspberryrodimus
Summary: Tumblr request!:"I read your tfp optimus alphabet about him liking his valve eaten and you got me hot, so if you're still taking requests how about NSFW tfp optimus prime x dom reader as in eaten him out and fragging him with a strip on? And I suspect optimus has a praise kink. he is working in his berth on reports when reader shows up to give a him a good time and get the quite collected prime loud ;) Thanks!"





	Taking Care of Business

Optimus was always such a sturdy figure of authority. He was so domineering in his stature, his size alone enough to make anyone stop what they were doing and listen. Not to mention his commanding voice. It didn’t matter what he was saying, you’d stop to listen. He was always working so, so hard. He never took a moment to himself. You wished you could convince him to think about himself for once. He deserved some time to himself. Which is why you almost felt bad bothering him when he was spending some personal time in his own habsuite. You knew he wouldn’t be in recharge. He hardly ever even gave himself the proper allotment for sleeping. Knowing the Prime, he’d be awake and neck cables deep in data pads. But still, you knocked on the door.

The door slid open before you, but you couldn’t find him at first. The silence of the whole habsuite was deafening. You hadn’t been inside of his quarters before. It made you a little nervous. He didn’t have much in his living quarters. You expected so. A few pictures of the team and the humans, just enough to show that someone lived here, but didn’t make it a home. You rounded to where his berthroom was, door already open. And also as expected, Optimus was propped up on his berth with what looked like two dozen data pads strewn across the berth before him.

“Optimus,” you greeted him, trying to not sound as nervous as you felt. Obviously he let you in, so you shouldn’t be feeling a pang of guilt for being here. And you had plenty of time to turn back before this moment. You knew what you came here for. You knew what you wanted.

Moments before you were in your own room, hands trembling as your hands toyed with your sex. In your mind you were picturing the bot down on his knees, your tiny human hands roaming over those big, hulking shoulders of his, touching down his strong chest and leaving finger prints all over the glass of his windshield. It wasn’t the first time you’d fantasized about your leader. It certainly wasn’t the second time either. But why spend all your time thinking about having him under you when you could just offer to do it in person? The worst he would say is no. And he’d probably immediately decline anyway because that’s the kind of bot he is; he’s someone that would always put other’s needs before his own. You just had to show him that this is what you need.

Which is how you replaced all the data pads on the berth with your own body as your held the Prime’s thighs open with your feeble human fingers. You were nestled perfectly between the smooth metal of his legs, mouth latched onto his valve. He was quiet, but the sounds of his cooling fans on full blast indicated that he was enjoying what you were doing to him. You so desperately just wanted to please him, make him feel good, and turn him into a wanton mess. You wanted him to come completely undone before you. Someone just so big, who could crush you between two fingers if he really wanted to, subject to you. Your tongue lapped hungrily at the lubricant that was almost gushing from his valve. He was so much more needy than you anticipated. Your mouth, your tongue, burying in between his slick mesh folds. His servos, large enough to completely wrap around your whole body, were so gentle stoking down your hair, tracing down your neck and back. 

“Optimus, you have the most beautiful valve. I love you responsive it is for me,” you replaced your mouth with a few of your fingers. He was so wet for you. Your thumb ghosted over his anterior node and for the first time you heard a real moan escape. You dared to look up at him. He was perfect. His browplates were knit together, optics bright and locked onto you. His mouth hung open, lower lip slightly trembling. Deep, heavy exvents huffing his chest up and down. The arm that wasn’t draped across your body hung off to his side, servos gripped against the berth itself, knuckles strained from holding on so tight. He was trying so, so hard to keep that professional composure. It was your goal to break him.

“You’re doing so well. Your valve is so nice, so good. Do you like how I make you feel? Does it feel good?” You didn’t even wait for a response. Yow lowered your head back between his legs and worked his valve with your mouth again. Fingers twisting, finding that sweet spot inside. You toyed with his interior node, stroking a finger over it. Another soft moan escaping his vocalizer. You knew you’d have him soon.

“Optimus, I want you to overload for me. Please? I want you to feel so good, you deserve it. You work so, so hard. You need to let go. It’s okay.” One last lap to his mesh before you sucked down hard on his anterior node again. It was just enough to push him over the edge. You felt the servo on your back seize up, holding you down to him. He hit his overload in a shaking crash. As quiet as he tried to remain, his moans were interrupted by a haze of static. His legs quivered, lubricant leaking from his valve across your face and hands. Transfluid staining down his thighs, coating both of you filthy. You loved it. And if he thought you were going to stop after just one overload, then he was absolutely wrong. You waited till his systems cooled off a little. The charge from his interface almost shocking you when you traced a hand over his spike paneling.

“Optimus, that was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re so perfect. I love seeing you feel good. Can I keep making you feel good?” Your tone was soft, but commanding. He tried to respond but still his vocalizer was laced with static. Instead, he transformed away the rest of his modesty paneling. His spike was already pressurized, probably straining against his panels long before you asked him to show you.

“Look at you, Optimus. You’re so big,” you ran a hand over his spike, attempting to wrap your hand around. You could barely touch your fingers around him. The head of his spike already leaking with prefluid. You gave him a few pumps which had him softly moaning all over again. “Do you want me to make you overload again?”

He nodded his helm. The expression on his face showed him completely spent. But you weren’t going to let him off that easy. You didn’t know the next time he would ever be able to really let go like this. You didn’t know how long it had been since the last time he was able to feel like this. You weren’t going to let him rest until he was a moaning, blabbering, uncomposed mess.

“Optimus, do you...have anything that I can use to fill you up really good? I’m just so much smaller than you,” you stroked his spike as you spoke, drawing out another moan from him. “I’ve brought...equipment of my own, but if you had something else I could use?” Honestly, you were surprised when he opened a drawer a pulled out a large silicone spike. It was comforting to know that he at least could indulge in some alone time, but you’d make him overload harder than he ever could on his own. You hooked up his toy to your own harness. You probably looked a bit silly with it attached to you, but looks didn’t matter when it came to your job at hand.

You positioned yourself back between his legs. His valve was still wet from his last overload. You thrust up into him, your spike pressing into him. He gave some reserve, but slowly you inched inside of him. His calipers adjusting to the new size inside. His moans were thoroughly coated in more static as you bottomed out. Your hands balance don his body, one onto his hip to keep yourself steady and the other onto his spike. You started to move, slowly fixing your hips into a rhythm. With every thrust you worked his spike in unison. You could tell he was getting a bit shy by it all because of of his arms lifted to his chest, servos hiding his face.

“Optimus, let me see your handsome face. I love the way you look when I make you feel good,” he moved it slightly, hands moving down to his mouth, dentae biting down on one of his digits. “Do you like the way I fuck you? Does it make you feel good?”

His vocalizer was nothing but moans, growls, and static. The sounds would cut out completely and his optics completely offlined. You knew he was getting close. The prefluid leaking from his spike was dripping down the length, giving you a more slippery surface to work him with. Your pace picked up, drawing in and out of his needy little valve. His own hips tried to buck up to meet you. He was getting so, so desperate for release. And you’d give it to him.

“I want you to overload to bad, Optimus. I want you to overload so hard onto me. I wanna see your whole frame shake because of how good you feel. Can you do that for me?” It was like he was just waiting for permission. The Prime hit his second overload harder than the first. Your slowed down your hips as he clamped down onto the strapped on spike. His own spike spurting ropes of hot, sticky transfluid all over his chest and your hand. You slowed your hands down, your whole body’s work coming slowly down to complete spot. He made no really sounds through the whole process. His vocalizer must have shorted out because all you could hear was the screeching of his systems, the wild whirring of his cooling fans, and creaking of his joints as he released the death grip he was holding onto his own berth. You slipped out of him while he came down from overload. You took your harness off and nestled yourself into the space at his side.

His frame, so big, so wide, so strong, rose up and down as his ventilation recalibrated back to normal setting. You cuddled up into his side and stroked his armor softly. You kissed into his plating, whispering your soft praises to him. His servo came down and stroked against your body as well. You both were silent basking in the afterglow. You held him the best way you could. You could hear him transforming his panels back to normal as well. He was still filthy with the evidence of your evening together. You’d help him clean up. You needed a clean up on your end after all. But for now, you’re enjoy taking care of him. After wash time, you were sure he’d have the best recharge he’s had in a millennia.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to request your own? Visit @blueraspberryrodimus on tumblr :)


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